


Running Up That Hill

by WondrousWendy



Series: Wendy's Kinktober Pieces [12]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst, Body Worship, Consent is Sexy, Cunnilingus, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Implied/Referenced Raventrust, Issues with the Void vs. the Light, Kinktober 2020, Porn With Plot, Size Difference, Size Kink, The Army of the Light is Super Religious, Touch-Starved, Vaginal Sex, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:22:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WondrousWendy/pseuds/WondrousWendy
Summary: One night while serving at Stromgarde Keep as the commander of the Alliance's forces at the Arathi warfront, Turalyon receives a visit from his wife, Alleria Windrunner. In those quiet evening hours, they discuss matters of the Light, the Void, and where their relationship stands in the midst of a cosmic battle far greater than either of them. Some say that darkness cannot abide by the light, but without light, there can be no shadows.
Relationships: Turalyon/Alleria Windrunner
Series: Wendy's Kinktober Pieces [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1503029
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	Running Up That Hill

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zath](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zath/gifts).



> Let me take this opportunity to say that I'm salty that the Arathi Warfront, years later, has still yet to give me the elite plate shoulders from the warfront set. Oh well, at least I can watch Turalyon and Lady Liadrin duke it out in awesome fashion. 
> 
> In addition, I'd like to say that this notion that Alleria and Turalyon can't touch is fanatical religious propaganda from the Army of the Light and it simply cannot stand.

Turalyon feels the presence of void magic entering his chambers in one of Stromgarde Keep’s towers. Something feels strange, but the presence lurking in the dark behind him also feels... good, right. He trusts his gut and doesn’t reach for his shortsword leaning against his desk. 

When one puts their faith into the Light, they are rewarded. The lingering presence of shadows fade, and Turalyon lets out a sigh of relief. The pleasant scent of pine and wood fills his quarters, and a smile spreads across his face. He pushes back from his desk, steps out of his chair, and turns to see his partner Alleria standing before him as beautiful as ever. 

“I apologize for the cloak and daggers entrance. I didn’t want to rouse the other sleeping soldiers.”

Ah, so she arrived through a void portal. The thought should alarm him, make him unsettled, cause him to raise the sword, but it doesn’t. This is his dearest, the woman he promised before the Light to love through sickness and health, through every trial and tribulation. Even if those trials involved the cosmic war between the Light and the Dark. 

“My soldiers will appreciate your kindness after a full night’s sleep.” 

Alleria moves past him to look out his stone window. She leans against the wall of the tower and stares out at the highlands of Arathi where the Alliance and the Horde have been waging war for the past few weeks. 

“How is the war effort going here?“ 

“It goes,” Turalyon says sadly. He joins her by the window and points into the darkness to the north. “Lady Liadrin leads her forces ruthlessly. It is... a terrible shame, frankly, but she holds to her convictions.” 

“As you surely hold to yours.” 

Turalyon can’t help but laugh sheepishly. He knows exactly what she’s referring to. Even within the armies of the Light, arguments and disagreements have erupted. Further, she’s speaking to the troubles on the Vindicaar over the course of their thousand year war. Not everyone was willing to trust Alleria to control the Void—he himself failed to listen to Alleria and for a time, he had failed as a partner. Now, he wants to listen, to understand, and help her to the best of his abilities. He wants to know that with every breath, he fights for her and their son. He runs a hand through his fading blonde hair and shakes his head as he thinks of the war in Arathi. 

“They say she is Silvermoon’s finest paladin.” Alleria’s blue eyes glimmer with yearning, and perhaps even a little jealousy. “I may disagree with Sylvanas’s actions and those who follow her, but sometimes I do wonder what it would be like to all be home, together, without war between us.” 

“So much changed while we were away, I’m afraid.” 

“And not quite for the better.” 

Turalyon nods while scratching the back of his neck. Thinking about this war makes him restless. Thinking about what Sylvanas did to Lordaeron makes him angry, but he must tread carefully. Warchief of the Horde Sylvanas may be, but she is still a Windrunner sister, and Alleria loves her family more than war. 

Alleria’s gaze remains fixated upon the scene below, of pale grassy gnolls bathed in moonlight for a moment more, and then she looks up into Turalyon’s golden eyes. 

For a mere moment, annoyance washes over her face, and Turalyon knows her well enough to catch it. She’s always been a tad bothered by him being taller than her, despite being a human. Her two other sisters partnered with humans, too, but they were taller than them, unlike Alleria. He missed this—the little nuances in her expressions, the way her brows twitched with her moods, the way her lips moved as she spoke, the sound of her voice. 

“I didn’t come here to talk about Arathi or any other military excursions among the 7th Legion,” Alleria says at last. 

Relief floods through his veins, mixed with excitement. He can’t stop his heart from racing. Has she finally decided to take him up on his offer? The breath rushes out of his lungs, and he prays she’s ready. 

“What do you require of me, Lady Windrunner?” 

Alleria’s attention falls to one of her gloved hands. She pulls off the glove, lets it fall carelessly to the floor, and then she reaches out, cautiously, to touch him. Her palm hovers over his chest, immediately causing the Void to erupt from her fingertips. Thin, purple and blue tendrils coil around her hand, contained and controlled by her willpower, but she doesn’t move further. 

This is where cosmic circumstances have led them. Alleria infused herself with the Void, while Turalyon was made Lightforged. They stand at opposite ends of a spectrum—at one pole chaos, at the other, order. They believed for a time they would never be able to touch one another ever again, for darkness could not abide within the Light, but everything changed during their short return to Stormwind before the eruption of the fourth war. 

They were enjoying a tour from Khadgar and Arator of the grand Alliance city, when a runaway horse in Old Town caused Alleria and Turalyon to both dive to protect a young, crying child in the middle of the street. They collided to rescue the child, and for a moment while they recollected themselves on the cobblestone road, their hands briefly touched. 

The draenei of the Vindicaar had told them that they could never touch, that they would likely never be physically intimate ever again, lest something terrible happen to either of them. Instead, when their hands touched, Turalyon felt his entire body erupt with what felt like fire—except it didn’t hurt. It filled him with maddening lust, and he found himself absolutely dumbstruck by the beauty of his beloved Alleria in the middle of the street. He wanted to tear her clothes off and make love to her right then and there, as if his life depended upon it. When he caught Alleria’s wide eyes, he saw that same desire mirrored in her glowing eyes. 

That evening, when Arator and Khadgar each finally retired for bed, Turalyon looked to Alleria and they both leaned in for a long overdue kiss. He didn’t dare fully embrace her, lest the heat of their passion truly consume him. When he pulled away, he saw conflict within Alleria, and he knew in that moment she was going to draw back. She told him that whatever was happening to them was dangerous, and that they couldn’t go further. For once, his wife agreed with what the Lightforged medics told them. They couldn’t, shouldn’t touch. 

Alleria, perhaps feeling confused and scared, fled into the night with her bow and arrows to deal with an excess of frustration and anger the only way she knew how—by riddling shots into poor, unsuspecting target dummies outside of SI:7’s headquarters. For Turalyon, he found himself torn by her admission, yet, simultaneously, wildly aroused. He hadn’t taken himself in hand in what felt like years, and the relief he felt after his climax was temporary, at best. 

As he lay awake that night, he tried to understand why the Lightforged healers had lied to him. They said that if he and Alleria touched, something cataclysmic could happen. One said they could very well cause an explosion inside of the Vindicaar, others suggested they would destroy one another, burning each other to ashes. Those claims seemed outrageous now. They had touched, they had even kissed, however brief. Ultimately, Turalyon concluded, with a sinking feeling, the Lightforged likely hoped to drive a wedge between them by removing physical intimacy from their relationship. When he realized so many years ago that Alleria wasn’t dangerous, that she was still his beloved wife and unchanged by the Void, he swore that doubting her would be the last mistake he would ever make in their relationship. Yet, that night, he learned he had made another costly error in judgment. 

Though their plan didn’t work in the long run, how much time had they lost? In place of physical affection over the years, Turalyon had tried to show his love for Alleria through other means since her original Void infusion. Though he missed being able to hold her at night to offer her comfort after the horrors the Legion wrought upon them and being able to make love to her, Turalyon and Alleria let their relationship evolve into something that transcended the physical. They could simply be around one another, in each other’s orbit, whether reading, training, or talking with one another aboard the Vindicaar, and that was enough. In Stormwind, Turalyon gave her small but meaningful gifts, such as her favorite flowers or foods she hadn’t been able to enjoy in years. 

In the days that followed the realization that they could touch, Turalyon made a point of being near her, physically, no longer content with keeping his distance. Every chance he had, he made sure to touch her in some way. Some touches were innocent accidents, some were intentional. Turalyon wanted her to see that he wasn’t going anywhere; he intended to show her that he wasn’t afraid of what he felt between them. More and more as time passed, he saw the conflict churning in her. Never before had Turalyon felt like such a temptress, a tease, but he made sure Alleria knew he was determined. 

But the erupting war between the Alliance and Horde took them in two different directions, at least for a time. Alleria was to go with Jaina to Kul Tiras to seek allies, and Turalyon, with the help of the 7th Legion and Lightforged soldiers, was to take Stromgarde back from the Horde. On the night before they both shipped out to their new posts, Turalyon made a promise to Alleria: _No matter how far you go, no matter where these wars take us, I will always love you and I will never doubt you again._

Now, months later in the Arathi Highlands, Alleria has come to him on her own, crossing the Great Sea, cosmic planes, and an artificial divide that should have never been there in the first place. 

“Turalyon...” She looks back up at him, away from the glowing tendrils around her wrist, her brows furrowed with worry. “Are you absolutely sure about this?” 

Turalyon steps closer and takes her hand in his, firmly holding her palm to his chest, over his heart. He reaches out and cups her cheek, and Alleria, as if by instinct, leans into his palm. 

“When I told you how I felt about this the first time, I meant every word,” Turalyon says every word with conviction, for he knows his wife needs there to be no doubt between them. He wants to hold her once more in his arms, to kiss her, to hear her whimper from his touch, and to feel her body shudder against his. “I’m not afraid,” he asserts, “I _know_ you are in control of it, just as I am sure I am in control of my power.” 

Alleria’s eyes rake over his body, and suddenly the tension in the room feels twofold. Turalyon can feel the raw power surging through her fingertips, like they’re exchanging an electrical current, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this, pulled tight like a bowstring, waiting to be released by an expert archer like her. 

“If we do this,” Alleria says carefully, “there’s no going back. No taking this back.” Her eyes flash up to meet his, briefly lingering on his lips. “Are you prepared for what the Army of the Light will think of their commander?”

Turalyon smiles. He drops the hand on her cheek to wrap it around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. “Darling, I would happily make love to you in front of all of them. Let them think ill of me; let them cast their judgment. My mind, body, and heart are yours. Nothing is going to change that.” 

To seal the promise, Turalyon leans close and captures her lips in a kiss, no longer content to let this dance go on any further. Then, Alleria’s right there with him, pushing back with force strong enough to walk them backwards until his back collides with the stone wall of the tower. He grunts, and his heart thunders in his chest as suddenly her hands are everywhere, sliding under his twill tunic to run along his abs, up higher and higher until she’s pulling off his shirt, tossing it aside, and finally touching what she has only been able to look upon for far too long. 

Then, her mouth is on him, first his neck, then down his chest. Alleria seems ravenous, like a hunter finally feasting upon prey, and Turalyon lets her have her way, at least for a little while. After all, he’s the first to admit he has practically dangled himself like bait these past few months, hoping she would come on her own terms. He’s fine with letting her take command in battle, but when her hand reaches for his belt, he grabs her wrist and stops her with another kiss. 

“Not until I’ve had you first,” Turalyon murmurs against her lips before sweeping her off of her feet with one deft movement. He carries her to his small bed tucked in the corner of his quarters, and he lays her down against the covers. 

Alleria doesn’t shy away from him or hide herself. She must be burning up too, for she’s all too eager to begin removing her clothes. Her pauldron, the emerald tunic and archer’s gloves, the belt and laced trousers, then her boots—all of it joins the growing pile on the ground until she’s bare before him, sprawled on the bed waiting for him with parted legs. 

It’s been far too long since Turalyon has seen Alleria this way. Yes, they have seen one another naked in recent history, but the context was always different. They were changing into and out of armor or they were watching as the other was patched up after a terrible wound. He always longed for her, and when he looked at her, nothing had changed. He still saw the woman he deeply loved, the mother of their beloved son, and a warrior who would do anything to protect the goodness left in the universe. He noticed every new scar, every new sign of wear and tear, and he wanted nothing more than to soothe away muscle aches, knots in her shoulders, even something as simple as to rub her feet when she was tired. 

All of that had been robbed from them, and Turalyon should have known better. He has much to make up for.

So, Turalyon takes her by the thighs and angles her body upward, and after so long, he leans down and tastes her again. He starts off slow, exploring her body with the tip of his tongue, but as Alleria begins to gasp and writhe beneath his ministrations, Turalyon becomes a man possessed. He covers her with his whole mouth, lapping at her, sucking on her pearl, slipping his tongue inside of her to stroke at her walls. He missed this act far too much—he used to enjoy eating her out to help her relieve stress during the Second War in their tent, where she would have no choice but to gag herself with her glove, lest Khadgar and Danath hear what they were getting up to in the late hours of the night. Like he used to do so many years ago, Turalyon lets her bury a hand into his blonde hair, lets her rut into his face, desperate for more, lets her fall apart beneath him. Her legs wrap around his head, forcing him in place, and this is where he wants to be, consumed and controlled by his lust for her. 

Alleria’s body convulses, shuddering all around him, and her toes point and curl as her climax washes over her. She draws him away from her thighs with a shaky hand but doesn’t yet release him. 

“I forgot how good that feels,” Alleria says, her voice ragged. “I remember the first time you did that,” she licks her lips, runs a hand through her loose hair, “in fact I think we weren’t far from here, were we? Somewhere in Arathi back then too. I used to think you were just another one of Alonsus’s choir boys.” She smiles and strokes Turalyon’s messied hair back into orderliness. “How wrong I was.” 

Turalyon blushes, and in a futile attempt to hide it, he strokes his cheek along Alleria’s thigh. “I still feel bad for the others in our party. I suppose I’ve been making it up to Danath by helping him with retaking Stromgarde.”

“I’m sure all has been forgiven.” Alleria laughs. “Poor Khadgar, though. He probably heard more than he bargained for. We took advantage of the poor boy’s silence on the matter, didn’t we?” 

“I think we did.”

“We’ll have to send him an apology gift after all this time. He’s staying at Karazhan, isn’t he? I wonder why he wanted to go back there. I thought Lothar said…” 

“Arator mentioned to me that the Guardian isn’t quite as dead as Khadgar first believed, but from what our son said, it sounds as if the matter is… complicated.” 

“Hmm,” Alleria nods. “Do you think I should go to Karazhan and confront this Medivh myself and demand he forgive Khadgar?” 

“If you do, I think Danath and I will want to go with you to see that.” Turalyon moves up Alleria’s body, lays down beside her, and wraps an arm around her waist to cradle her close. Pressing against her like this sends ripples of pleasure up and down his spine, but he holds back, content to enjoy this moment of quiet intimacy between them. “Liadrin seems open to creating some manner of peace treaty, and I think I can persuade Danath to see reason. This battle doesn’t need to go on. After, perhaps all of us can travel together to pay our respects to Lothar. What do you think?” 

Alleria turns her head towards him and nods. “I think that’s a wonderful idea.” 

They grow quiet once more, and as they listen to the soft night sounds filtering through the tower’s window, they spend the next several minutes kissing, exploring each other’s mouths. Turalyon holds her hand to his chest, letting her feel his heartbeat. Only for you, he mouths against her tattooed breast before laying kisses upon it. He then moves their joined hands down between her legs once more, where this time he guides her fingers over herself, letting their mutual cosmic energies mingle together, applying joint pressure against her still-sensitive folds. 

This time, when Alleria reaches for his silver belt buckle, she doesn’t let Turalyon get away with stopping her. She helps him out of his breaches and underclothes until he’s naked beside her too. With a gentle nudge, Alleria pushes him onto his back and moves on top of him, straddling his large thighs. His thick cock rests against a trail of light grey hair on his stomach, semi-hard and leaking a trail of precum. 

“Still not afraid of me touching you?” Alleria asks through half-lidded eyes. 

“Never.” Turalyon smirks up at her. “Let’s see if you still can’t wrap your fingers around me.” 

Alleria raises a brow. “Is that a challenge I hear?”

Turalyon shrugs playfully, folding one of his arms underneath his head. He gestures down to himself and smiles. 

It’s all the invitation Alleria needs to try. She licks her palm and then takes his cock in hand, but try as she might, she cannot wrap her hand around him all the way. She lets out a soft noise of frustration, causing him to chuckle. Understandable, certainly. Alleria’s pride matches no other elf he’s ever known. 

“Well,” she says while leisurely stroking his length to full hardness, “I can think of one alternative.” 

Alleria holds him in place, and slowly impales herself upon him. When she’s seated upon his thighs fully, they both share a long overdo moan of relief. She leans over him, pressing herself down into him, and she kisses him softly. Turalyon groans deep into their kiss, moving his hands to rest upon her thighs. He thought they would never be joined like this again.

When Alleria first rocks her hips down into Turalyon, something cataclysmic sparks between them forcing a loud gasp of shock past each of their lips. They blink and stare widely at one another in surprise. Perhaps it’s the way she moved her body, perhaps it’s the way she’s clenching all around him, perhaps it’s the way she digs her nails into his skin, but something happens between them, like small aftershocks after an earthquake. He’s never felt like this before; it’s like something has come over him, like a second shadow. There’s something inside of him, searching across his skin, probing deep into the nooks and crannies of his body, filling him in a way he’s never felt before. It whispers something Turalyon has never heard before, an echo of Alleria’s spirit, something he could only describe as her essence. For a moment, it’s like he’s her, her thoughts his, like they are of one body and mind. He sees her dreams, her goals… her wild thoughts of desire. When he closes his eyes, he sees sordid images flash before him—Alleria on her stomach as he ruts into her from behind like an animal, Alleria kneeling before him, his cock stuffed into her mouth, Alleria riding his face, Alleria nearly bent in two on her back, ankles by her head as he spills into her deep...

“Light have mercy,” Turalyon murmurs, his body growing incredibly warmer with every passing second, “Are… Are those all things you… Goodness, the things we could do...” 

Alleria closes her eyes, bites her lip, and nods quickly. “Yes, _please_.” 

Turalyon wastes no further time. He digs his fingers into her hips and starts to thrust up into her body, relishing every cry and whimper that rushes past her lips. It doesn’t take much to have her shuddering and begging for more, suddenly lost in a haze of pleasure. Even after she climaxes the second time with him inside her, she’s still ravenous, hungry for more, and so he lets her take control of their pleasure. Turalyon makes good on his word; he’d do anything to satisfy her, to prove that his devotion is real. He watches her body move with awe; somehow, she seems to be glowing, radiating heat like a sun. He’ll never forget her in this moment, perched atop his thighs, lost to her own desires, beautiful and mysterious like the wilds of Quel’thalas she called home. 

The night air is cool, providing marginal relief when they finally settle down some time later, spent in each other’s arms. Alleria holds Turalyon to her breast and runs her hand through his wild pale blonde hair. 

“I love you, Alleria,” Turalyon says, tilting his head to meet her gaze. “I want you to know that being with you has been the greatest adventure of my life. I’m sorry I didn’t push for this sooner.” 

“Neither of us knew, how could we?” Alleria pauses to think for a moment. Then, she smiles half-heartedly. “I look forward to this added angle to your love letters.” 

“Now I know exactly what you want and how. That’s powerful ammunition.” 

“Be careful about how explicit you decide to be. Shaw and his spies read every letter that’s delivered to the _Wind’s Redemption_.” 

All Turalyon can do is hold his wife and laugh as he imagines a man like Mathias Shaw reading the kind of letters he has in store for Alleria.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading! If you enjoy this work, please leave a comment and let me know what you think! 
> 
> You can find me on twitter [@W0ndrousWendy](https://twitter.com/W0ndrousWendy)


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